Callum
by Tressle
Summary: A continuation of the short story, Callum. What if Callum had survived the shoot-out with Jude? What if the shot had missed in that cabin? Could he and Persephone finally make a life for themselves, for their family of three in the Cross-controlled super continent?
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, so - I really, REALLY loved the book and this couple. The way the author approached a dystopian society was so frightful that I had no choice but to think it was accurate. But because I loved this couple, I HATED how both stories ended - the actual book and the short story - Yes, I know, its very unlikely for a couple like this to survive. Romeo and Juliet, for example. But this is fanfiction and I do what I want #rebel. I've never handled sad endings well, the only time I actually accept a character's death is if its really heartfelt and personal and there's a nice little farewell going on but what's with this? Outcome 1: He dies; he gets hung while his pregnant girlfriend watches his limp body sway with a hastened farewell and a not-so-sure-if-she-heard-me 'I love you' and Outcome 2: He dies; He gets shot by his older brother in a cabin after being caught with his pants down - literally - with Persephone. I mean, c'mon. C'MON. I thought that ending was crazy ambiguous (how it said his brother pulled his trigger, so he did the same), so I saw fanfiction potential. Holyshit, this was long. Enjoy the story :D_

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Sephy

I must've only been a few meters away from the cabin - my ankle released the wails of pain I bit down so desperately with every step it endured - but when the gunshots sounded and the surrounding leaves quaked in disturbance, I was lost. I was far from home. Far, far away from the cabin. My tears flowed without reprieve and my vision clouded. And I couldn't find Callum anywhere. I was millions of light years away from Callum and I couldn't reach out.

With a whimpering, shaking voice, I called to him: 'Callum,' I called, 'Callum!' It got louder, more desperate and I wondered, _was this my voice that I was hearing?_ It had been many years, 3 years, I believe, since my voice quaked with such anger and hurt and desperation and just.. confusion. Confusion of what I should do now. Where I'll be without him. How I'll go on.

And my legs whispered to me - _Survive_, they insisted - but I wanted none of it. Still, they forced me and I cried and I looked back at that wooden shack that I had spent a single, blissful night with Callum in. When he had held me, I felt I was in heaven but the hardly-intact roof and the windows without glass and the creaky door that seemed a breeze from coming off its hinges looked like hell right now.

I sometimes looked back - both hopeful and fearful - hearing the light footfalls of a staggering man, or the squishing sound of the damp, mossy forest floor behind me. The occasional branch cracked or a leaf crunched under pressure. But I was probably just paranoid. And if I wasn't, my stalker was good at hiding. And God, if you're up there, I hope with all my being that its Callum and that, even if I keep stumbling away from him, he'll be at my side when I next wake.

Everytime I looked back, I thought he'd be standing there, giving me an easy smile. 'I love you, Sephy,' He'd whisper and open his arms for me.

I wouldn't hesitate to run forth at full speed and have him take me deep into his embrace, even if my Achilles' tendon collapsed and twisted and was impaled by bone, I'd charge at him and there'd be no doubt in my mind what I'd say: 'I only need you, Callum. No one else, just you.' and my arms would snake around him and feel his back to make sure he was real.

But Callum wasn't there when I looked back, or when I found the road, or when a young Cross couple pulled over for me - Or when the man, a nice 25-year-old by the name of Zed allowed me to show him the way, he wasn't there in that cabin and I looked wide-eyed and a small glimmer of hope was alight within me, staring in disbelief at Jude's cold, limp body. And Zed urged me to leave but I stayed for awhile longer, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you were still here with me. On this earth.

'Sephy, was it? We better get going! I'll call the cops right away,' He looked ready to gag: 'I just don't like the look of this - Poor guy,'

'That's true, isn't it?' I asked him, looking thoughtful, 'He's a poor guy. Because he's a nought,'

'That's not what I meant.. Anyone who dies like this, it's just bad,' He defended, looking at me with the slightest hint of contempt.

'You're a good person, Zed.' I was speaking so eerily, I almost felt my sanity slipping away from me.

He grabbed my arm, 'Miss, we have to leave now. I don't want to be here, if I had it my way, we would've left right away to get you to the hospital but I've accompanied you, so could you do me the same honor?' He asked me. His voice was soft and his touch wasn't forceful and I smiled up at him - He was about half a foot taller than I.

'You're right - What was I thinking?' Even as we left, Zed helping me to limp my way back to their car, I watched Jude's immobile body and I felt a sad smile grace my lips. Oh, Callum. Oh, my Callum. Could you be alive?


	2. Chapter 2

Sephy

When I got home, several months ago now, I had found that, to my horror, I was pregnant. I would be a Mother. My parents urged me, both day and night, to abort the baby. It was a nought's, they said. He had raped me, my captive had raped me, they insisted. But I didn't understand.

As the months waned by and I watched the seasons change in my sheltered life, I couldn't, for the strenuous life of me, understand. Yes, my child was going to be half-nought. Yes, Callum captured me. But rape? No. Callum would never do that.

'Princess, its okay. We'll get that nought if its the last thing we do!' Father seemed so stuck on it, like it was for my sake, when it was all for his. All for his petty political career that I loathed so very much, 'Your Mother and I will both accompany you to the clinic tomorrow and it'll all be fine.' He assured me.

'That's right, Persephone - We'll go to the Clinic and then we can all go on holiday - You, me, Dad and Minerva, together - Just like we used to. You'd like that, wouldn't you?' If I had still been that naive little child I had been - the one who sat on the beach waiting for my childhood friend and only cared about today - I would've been ecstatic. All my worries would be over.

I would have a family again.

But this. These sentient robots were NOT my family. I didn't want to know them. I tolerated them out of convenience because without Callum, I have no where to go.

'I wasn't raped!' I cried over and over again, 'I wasn't!'

'Please, Princess - You're in shock. The doctor told us so!' Father insisted, looking panicked. Was I hurting his reputation too much with the truth?

'No.' I uttered lowly.

'What was that, Persephone?' Mother chimed in with her ugly, wretched tone.

'No! You're wrong. You're all wrong! I don't care what the doctor said. I wasn't raped. I love Callum, I love Callum so much! I made love to Callum - He would never rape me... He didn't.. I made love to him and we made a baby and I love our baby. No one can take that away from me!' I screamed.

I felt the cold lash of my Father's hand, for the first time, sting my cheek, felling me from my place on our sofa, 'You! You are no daughter of mine! You're nothing but a nought's whore!' He screamed in anger, 'I never want to see you again.' He spat coldly.

And my family left with scorning glances at me - The disowned child of the Hadley family.

To save face, I still wasn't allowed to leave my home but I was constantly trapped inside my room, the door being locked from the outside. I sighed and toiled over the image of Jude's lone body. Lone. It was the only body there. Everyday and every night, I watched the beautiful rose garden's greenhouse, waiting for my nought in shining armor to save me. But he didn't.

'Callum,' I'd whisper, 'Callum, I love you. We have a baby, do you know? Do you know that our baby will be born very soon - It's a boy. I hope he looks like you. So handsome and wonderful. I hope he's just like you, my love.' One hand would hold my stomach protectively while I felt the slight kick and churn of my unborn child within my womb and the other would trace a heart in the condensation on my window, professing my love for him.

And when I finally managed to go to sleep, when the young McGregor inside me decided to calm for the night, I'd close my eyes and think of him. I'd think of him holding me, 'I love you, Sephy,' He'd whisper affectionately, repeating it as if it was a chant. I'd be lulled away with his arms around me and I'd be disappointed as I wake, finding myself with a desperate hold on nothing but a pillow.

And at times like that, I'd lie on my back and tears would flow while I recall our special memory. Before Chivers, before the LM got to us, there was this. When he told me he hated me, when I was nothing but a dagger that he could safely hurt. And then, he'd wrapped his arms securely around me and we'd cuddled under the vague moonlight. I'd fallen asleep first, I remember, I could hear him mumbling something in my ear and I smiled at his breath's ticklish properties on my lobe. When I'd woken up, perched on his then-narrow shoulder, I'd been ecstatic but fearful. But mostly ecstatic.

Was it possible to cry tears of joy and sadness at the same time?

That was one instance of when I asked this question.

But another was today.

Today, when I sang to my child, tears still welling in my eyes. Smooth notes falling from my lips like a waterfall. And like every night, I hopefully watched the deep red of the roses and the sheen surface of the greenhouse's glass, and my tears were endless when just a small whistle of wind caressed the door and pushed it open, only for it to close rather uneventfully.

Then with a gasp, I saw it. That wonderfully-pale hand plaster itself against the glass entrance and push it forward. I rushed to my window, practically snapping it off its hinges and my tears spilled with sadness - the empty sadness of being reminded why I had spent so many endless nights crying into my pillow or screaming at myself in the mirror - and happiness - the happiness that came from the fulfillment of one's dreams, where Callum was my dream. Where Callum and I, living secretly away with our child in our arms, was all I ever wanted.

When he limped and with labored breath, climbed the thorny vines that reached my bedroom, I mustered every sentiment of strength in my arms to heave him over the border holding us from one another.

His face was cold as I touched it, cradling it between my fingers, my palm warming from the contact. His cheeks and nose were bright red. I ushered him into my bed, rushing over to lock the door, and easing the blanket over him with desperation: 'Callum?' I whispered.

He held his hand out for me and I clasped it without hesitation: 'Sephy,' He smiled at me - but, unlike my daydreams, it was not an easy smile - I could see that he mustered all of his will to summon the small smile. And in a way, the smile was eerie. Or foreboding. Like some sort of farewell.

But I wouldn't let that be so.

'I'm tired, Sephy.' He told me weakly, 'I've been walking for so long to see you. I just need to rest a bit and then I'll take you.. away.. from here..' His eye lids must not have just felt heavy, they looked it, too. I caressed his face once again, assuring myself that, yes, he was real.

'Callum, you won't leave me again, will you?' I gently moved him against the wall and settled next to him, gingerly placing myself under the covers.

He still clutched my hand tightly and I smiled at that. He groaned in his sleep. I took that as a yes.

'Never again?' I wanted to make sure.

Groan, he replied.

'You'll really take me away from here?'

Groan, he uttered.

'I love you, Callum,'


End file.
